


Advanced Regrouping

by displayheartcode



Category: The Dresden Files - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 03:24:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2566517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/displayheartcode/pseuds/displayheartcode
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Dresden is about to lose an important battle, but at least Murphy is there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advanced Regrouping

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Russian quiz? I should really go study that instead of typing fic.

“I’m dying,” I rasped. “Tell Thomas that I…that I…”

“You’re such a baby.” Murphy jabbed my side with her finger. “It’s not even red.”

I rubbed the blue paint that now stained my shirt that was also splattered with more colors. Heh. Guess I was a walking target. “I’m a dead alien?”

Murphy grunted something that wasn’t PG-13 rated. Carefully, she then rose on her knees, and stared over our small wall. “I don’t see them.”

“That’s because they’re related to you,” I said. I readjusted my goggles that were twisted at the back of my head. I snapped them back on a little too forcefully and felt the blood vessels in my heads grow tighter. “They’re miniature ninjas in training.”

Murphy ducked as a paintball went soaring over her head. Cursing, she raised her paintball gun and aimed it at one of her nephews. “Jeremy! What have I told you? Not the face!”

“They also have good aim,” I added as I heard the whooping cheers of the boys advancing closer.

“This better make me their favorite aunt.” Her blue eyes blazed brilliantly through her goggles and she gave me a tired grin. 

It was a weekend afternoon when she’d called me up and asked if I wanted to go to a paintball gun thing with her nephews. What I never knew until now was that paintballs hurt, and that having good aim was a Murphy gene. I honestly thought it was going to be an easy win, but magic and martial arts were deemed unethical to use against preteens.

“Thanks for doing this with me.” Murphy leaned over my face and rubbed some of the paint off my face. She was sweaty, but I could smell her strawberry-scented shampoo. “Even if we are losing to bunch of my nephews.”

“Pshaw! I’ve been through worse battles. This is a cakewalk compared to that skirmish in Nevada.”

Murphy arched a blonde eyebrow. “You just got shot in the heart by a pimply boy with braces.”

“I think I’ll die with more honor this way,” I said and I reached for my gun. “Ready to take those suckers down?”


End file.
